


Trauma

by Farasha



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Community: centi_porn, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-28
Updated: 2006-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of trauma can stack up in a few thousand years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trauma

**01\. Balance**

Yuan had always maintained a delicate balance between simple possessiveness and true jealousy; it was hard not to be jealous when your lover had someone else that held just as much of his heart. Jealousy would be hypocritical, of course, because Yuan couldn't let his wife go either.

But in the months after Anna died, the fourth time Kratos called her name instead, Yuan pulled away abruptly, hissing slightly as Kratos slipped out of him, ignoring his body's protests that he _finish it,_ dammit.

"Until you can learn to tell the difference between us, I won't be her substitute."

**02\. Aware**

Yuan remembered that night vividly, although he was sure Kratos did not. He remembered his lover crash-landing on the floor through Yuan's window, coated in blood that was not his. He remembered Kratos's broken grief, the way after a while all he could say was a broken mantra of "Anna, Anna, Anna."

Yuan remembered being perfectly aware in a detatched sort of way as he drew Kratos down on top of him in a deep kiss. He remembered Kratos fumbling, not self-assured or contained anymore, aware that he had called his dead wife's name as he came instead of Yuan's.

**03\. Wait**

Kratos hadn't come back yet. It was the longest he'd been away since their relationship started, even longer than the week he had vanished when his son was born.

Yuan spent the long nights waiting, watching the broken window that he would not have repaired.

He spent the long nights imagining that his lover was still there, that nothing had happened in his marriage, that they still moved together in the dark without a hint of the desperate grief Kratos carried with him now.

He came whispering Kratos's name, waiting for a blue glow in his window.

**04\. Rhythm**

His life took on a sort of rhythm. Wake up in the morning, stare out the broken window for a while, go to work, come back to his rooms, stare out the window some more, jerk off, sleep, repeat.

It was repetative and mindless, and he hated it.

And just when he thought he was going to break, shatter like the window had, like his lover had, there Kratos was on the windowsill that morning.

Yuan wasted no time, just pulled him off the windowsill and knelt, swallowing Kratos's cock along with his silent apology.

**05\. Shift**

Something had shifted.

Kratos could tell something was wrong, different, in the way Yuan behaved. Like he was handling something immensly delicate. Like he was afraid to speak to Kratos.

So they didn't speak. They just felt, silently in the dark as Kratos's fingers slid over Yuan's skin, as Yuan fastened his mouth on Kratos's neck, unafraid to leave marks now, because who would see them and ask?

Yuan kept the silence, waiting for Kratos to break it first, accepting when he didn't. Patient.

All part of the healing process.

**06\. Transparent**

"Yuan, I-" Kratos fumbled with the ring on his left hand.

"You don't have to," Yuan said softly. "I still wear mine."

Kratos let out his breath in a grateful sigh, and kissed Yuan slowly, gently. Yuan said nothing about the softness, not like he would have in the past, but let Kratos treat him like he was something precious.

It was worth it, in the end, when Kratos gasped out his name along with a stuttered, "I love you," his eyes transparent, and Yuan could see that he meant it, that he wasn't looking at Anna anymore.

**07\. Reflection**

Kratos pulled his wings in as soon as he landed, not wanting to see their reflection in the now-repaired windowpane. The uniform was a harsh enough reminder of who he worked for.

Yuan opened the window and pulled him inside, away from the chill desert air. He was already naked.

Kratos backed him into the wall, hooking one leg over his elbow. Yuan wrapped the other around his waist. "You need this," Yuan said, to forestall any apologies or protests. "You - hn-" his breath stuttered as Kratos's fingers sank into him- "you need me. Take me."

**08\. Crave**

It wasn't surprising, after three thousand years of regular sex, that it had become a craving when they were away from each other. But Kratos still had a commander to answer to, even if he no longer had-

_Stop,_ he told himself, excusing himself to his quarters. Yggdrassil watched him go with raised eyebrows, but let him go all the same.

Kratos fumbled out of his uniform and took his cock in his hand, forcefully replacing brown hair with blue in his mind, soft curves with hard muscle. _This_ was his addiction, not his past. _This_ was who he craved.

**09\. Fleeting**

Long memories made for long healing processes, Yuan reasoned, so he stayed patient as Kratos fought with his grief and his love. He gave Kratos what he needed, when he needed it. _Whenever_ he needed it.

Even if what he needed was to pin Yuan on his stomach and fuck him into the matress hard enough to make him sore the next day, even with accelerated healing.

"_Fuck._ Kratos-" he arched, panting. If this was what it took, he would be glad to give it to his lover, until Anna was a fleeting flash in a three-thousand-year memory.

**10\. Constant**

When it came right down to it, Yuan had been the only constant. Even through Martel's death, through Kratos's marriage, through - Yuan had stayed with him through all of it.

"I love you," Kratos said suddenly, stopping for emphasis. Yuan threw his head back against the bed and moaned. "I mean it."

"I _know_ you do," Yuan said, almost exasperated. He grabbed Kratos's hand and guided it to his cock. "But if you don't finish me _now,_ there won't be enough of you left to do any loving when I get through with you."

That was constant, too.

**11\. Fate**

It must have been fate, because only fate could be that cruel. Or was it?

"Look at me," Yuan said, cupping Kratos's face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet. "_Look_ at me," he repeated, and rasied his left hand.

The ring was gone.

"You need all of me, not just half of me. I think it's time I was only yours."

Kratos took Yuan's hand, slowly sucked the ring finger into his mouth, his tongue playing over the pad. Yuan fought against the heaviness in his eyes, kept their gazes locked.

Fate had given them each other.

**12\. Again**

Kratos would say that Yuan had purred if he thought elven or human vocal chords were capable of that sound. It certainly sounded like it. Kratos ran his fingers through Yuan's hair - loose, for once - to try and duplicate the sound.

Yuan responded this time by arching his back and rubbing himself against Kratos's thigh. "Again," he said breathily.

"Which, the hair or the sex?"

Yuan made a considering noise and rocked against Kratos's thigh. Again. "Both," he finally said.

Kratos complied, running his hands through Yuan's hair and pulling him up into a hot, languid kiss.

Yuan purred.

**13\. Few**

The few times they fought, it always ended like this. Rough and fast, a battle for dominance. Kratos pinned Yuan's hands to the headboard with a growl, glancing around for something to keep them there.

"Fuck you," Yuan snarled, and twisted free, struggling to get away. Kratos laid his arm across Yuan's chest instead, always keeping one hand free to work his fingers in slowly. "You _bastard._ I don't need that!"

"You'll still get it," Kratos said, before pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his cock in one thrust.

Yuan raked his nails down Kratos's back in appreciation.

**14\. Vertigo**

Kratos gasped, thrust forward, bit down on Yuan's neck, and came.

It was that brief moment of pure pleasure and vertigo when he had no doubts in himself or his lover, when he could barely even remember that there had once been another in his life, or that he had a son somewhere out there.

He let out a strangled noise, as he came back down, breathing heavily, and went limp. Yuan scooted back so he was sitting up against the headboard and held Kratos close, running his fingers through wild brown hair.

"That good?" He asked, smug.

**15\. Inverse**

"Let me give you this," Kratos said quietly, drawing Yuan between his legs, surrendering control. "I need to be yours."

Yuan hesitated, almost froze. This was new - this was a reversal. But this is how Kratos had kept him going through- this was how Kratos had helped him.

He nibbled Kratos's throat as he slipped his fingers in, stretching, gently, and smiled against the skin when he heard Kratos's stutter, "I'm ready."

And then it was all heat and velvet tightness and _oh,_ that's what it felt like. Yuan panted, trembling, until Kratos growled, "Move."

Comfortable, familiar, _right._


End file.
